CAN West 04 - When Hope Springs New by Janette Oke Read Free Book Online Page A

the longest winter I ever remember—at least since the one when I had both the measles and the chicken pox as a child.”
    Wynn chuckled and hugged me.
    We trudged on for a few moments in silence, both busy with our own thoughts. The brightness made me squint against the morning glare, and the snow squeaked with a delightful, clean sound as our snowshoes made crisscross tracks across the unbroken whiteness.
    A bush rabbit streaked across the hill in front of us, and Kip was off on the chase. I could have told him not to bother. There was no way he was going to catch that rabbit. But I said nothing. Let him have his fun!
    “You didn’t tell me where we are going,” I commented to Wynn.
    “Oh, didn’t I? There’s a trapper out here who was burned when some of his clothing caught on fire—he fell asleep too close to his campfire coals. I thought I’d better check him out to see if he needs any attention.”
    “Was he badly burned?”
    “I don’t think so, but best not to take chances with infection. Some of these wounds aren’t cleansed too carefully. An infection could give him more trouble than the original burn.”
    We found the cabin with no difficulty. I sat on a tree stump and waited while Wynn went to check on the man. When he came out, he said the injury fortunately wasn’t deep, and the man had seemed to care for it properly. The burn was on his left leg, from his knee nearly down to the ankle. Wynn left him some medicated ointment and promised to stop by to see him in a couple days.
    We retraced our steps to the brow of a hill and sat down on a log to eat our sandwiches. How good they tasted in the fresh air, especially after our exercise of the morning.
    The sun climbed into the sky and sent down such warm rays that we both removed our heavy jackets.
    “Do you think it is really spring?” I asked with great longing.
    “Why not?” responded Wynn. “It’s that time of year.”
    “I’m always afraid to hope for fear it will storm again,” I confided.
    “It might,” Wynn replied, “but even that won’t keep spring from coming. Slow it down a bit maybe, but spring will still come.”
    It was a good thought. Springtime and harvest, God had promised, will always come to the earth.
    I breathed more deeply.
    “I’m glad,” I responded happily. “Glad that winter is almost over. Glad that I won’t have to melt snow for water. I’d rather carry it by the pail from the stream. I’m glad that I’ll be able to let the fires go out for part of the day. And I’m especially glad that I will be able to hang the laundry outside again—all of it. I am so tired of dodging under shirts and dresses and of having to move socks from bedpost to chair to bedpost.” I sighed a deep sigh. “I really will be glad to see spring.”
    Wynn reached out and stroked my hair.
    I broke the silent moment by turning to him. “Wynn, we haven’t found a garden spot yet.”
    He smiled his slow, easy smile.
    “No—guess we haven’t.”
    “Well, we need to pick one.”
    “Guess there is plenty of time. You won’t be planting for a few days yet, Elizabeth.”
    “I know, but we need to find a good one before—”
    “There is all of the woods and all of the meadow. You can take your pick,” he answered. “From what I hear, you’ll be the only one in the whole area in need of one.”
    “It’s a shame,” I said, “that’s what it is. All this beautiful soil—just going to waste.”
    Wynn looked around us at the heavy stand of trees. Under the snow we knew that grasses and plants grew in abundance.
    “Well, not exactly to waste. All the forest creatures seem to feed very well.”
    “You know what I mean. It could be supplying nourishment for the people of the settlement.”
    “I guess it’s doing that, too,” said Wynn. “LaMeche tells me that they eat very well from the land.”
    At the name of the trader my back straightened somewhat. I still didn’t feel comfortable with the man.
    “Wynn,” I asked,